Menology; a study of the 50s female facing apocalyptic eclipses.

There I was on Thursday evening, thoroughly enjoying myself with Prof Brian Cox and his cobber, his jackaroo, the lad who puts the 'wiz' to the 'ard', Dara O'Briain (is it possible to have two more hunky lumps of sexual intellectual???), not to mention Buzz Aldrin and a few other denizens of the astronomical community**; the lights were off and I was checking out the window every so often until Jupiter finally came round the sky enough for me to train the 8x40 binoculars upon it... and LO! ... Tiny, yes, but was able to resolve three of the four moons stretch like pearls out from the gas giant...woohoooooooo...

Meanwhile, Bri'n'Dar were waxing all agog about the impending eclipse. Whilst the skies were uncharacteristically pristine that evening, I was not at all holding out hope it would remain so through to the following dawn, but you never could tell.

Everyone in Britain was getting jolly excited, let me tell you. Schools everywhere were getting ready for an active science lesson.  In order that it was completely understood as to why and how, the BBC brought back some favourite characters from 1960's kiddy shows to share some wisdom;
[note to self;...they're bringing the Clangers back???!!! , mark the calendar now...]

One thing that Bri'n'Dar were at pains to point out is that solar eclipses, of any magnitude, had nothing to do with the end of the world as we know it. Weather effects, yes; technical effects, yes; tidal effects, yes. Apocolypse? Nada.

Anyhow, once all the science buffs had gone, I put on the lights again and some Star Trek DVDs; I had decided to give myself a mental holiday and revel in the possibilities. (Regulars here will recall my penchant for matters of science - actual and virtual.) I planned an all-nighter, an early bowl of porridge, making up a flask of tea and heading off in Little Ren for a good Easterly viewpoint. Cloud or no cloud I wanted to be part of the crowd.

At 01:56h, right at the point when Voyager was threatened with live burial inside a giant space 'plant', the sky fell in.  Not their sky. There is no sky in space - pay attention will ya?

My sky.  Well...... that is to say there was a resounding CRASH, followed within microseconds by a BANG and several WOLLOPS. The vid got paused and I sat in the deafening silence.  Something had happened; but the lights were still on and so was the thinking, therefore, I was.

Which meant the place where the sound came from had to be investigated.  All I can say is thank goodness the door was (mainly) closed, 'cuz I then discovered the dust storm.

Yes, clearly the bathroom was not as I left it a few hours before.



















[crikey, what happened to the 'watermarking' now????????]

I mean, really, can you imagine if I had been sitting there at 01:56h??? (All who are with menoplyxinaemia are accepting this could have been a distinct possibility.)







Okay, so it wasn't the sky exactly. We get the word 'ceiling' from the French for sky though.
So I wasn't fibbing. Honest.








I took the photos then closed the door again. I returned to Star Trek.  At 04:00h, though, I found I wasn't concentrating on the stories. Plaster and it's departure from the sky was foremost in mind. Set the alarm and lay down for what was intended to be three hours.  At 06:00h I oughtta have risen 'cuz I hadn't sleepen... at which point my lights went out.  The 'me' lights, not the houselights.  It was already light by then.  As in dawn........are you keeping up???

This resulted in my totally missing The Total.

Given the cloud cover, I suspect I didn't really miss it as such. Would have liked to have been on a hillside knowing that I hadn't missed it though...

Spent the day excavating the bathroom floor and fittings. Bleach aplenty let me tell ya. Then, late arvo, just to spite me - and me alone I am quite sure! - the weather (clearly affected by the morning's non-apocalyptic happenings) became possibly the best it has ever been in my entire thirteen months here.  I could see all the way to OZ. Okay, so again I exaggerate.  I could, however, see all the way to Hunterston with absolutely minimal haze... prepare yourselves. You may require special goggles for the viewing of this picture; the ship you see is the Samjohn Legacy and that is some 20 miles away!!!

Twenty by road anyway - I think, looking 'doon the watter' from my window like this, it is something like ten nautical miles (or 11.5 standard 'crow flies' miles). The point is, it is nearly always obscured by the sea haar.

You could even say it it gets 'eclipsed'...


**It might be pertinent to point out that, despite having good connections in the astronomical and space circles of NSW, I do not share the same level of 'intimacy' here in the UK.  Bri'n'Dar et al were on the telly in a marvellous show called Stargazing Live. Still and all, we shared a fine evening together. Until the apocalypse, that is...